


Cinderella

by justsomebucky



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Mob, F/M, Illegal Activities, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Mentions of Murder, Reader-Insert, Theft, disney crossover au, references cinderella 2015
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-02
Updated: 2017-07-02
Packaged: 2018-11-22 11:35:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 16,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11379390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justsomebucky/pseuds/justsomebucky
Summary: AU. After the tragic passing of reader’s father, reader is left with a cruel stepmother and two miserable step-sisters, who not only don’t care about her, but use her for their own gain. Will a handsome stranger offer her the freedom she longs for?





	1. Chapter 1

> _“Once upon a time, there was a girl called Y/N,” your mother began softly, her hands stroking your hair gently._
> 
> _The two of you were sitting on a blanket in the meadow behind the house that your family had owned for generations._
> 
> _“But that’s my name, Mommy!” You made a face at her. There was no way you and the little girl in the story had the same name._
> 
> _“It’s her name, too, sweetness, I promise you. As I was saying…once upon a time, there was a girl called Y/N, and she saw the world, not always as it was, but as perhaps it could be with just a little bit of magic.”_
> 
> _“Magic isn’t real, Mommy.”_
> 
> _“It is too, silly girl,” she leaned over to nuzzle you, and you giggled. “You’ll see, Y/N. Someday you’ll need a bit of magic, and if you keep believing, it will be there for your taking!”_
> 
> _“It will?”_
> 
> _“Yes, love, as long as you remember one thing.”_
> 
> _“Remember what, Mommy?”_
> 
> _“You must always have courage and be kind. Can you remember that my darling?”_
> 
> _“Have courage, and be kind,” you repeated._
> 
> _“Yes, love, that’s it.” She gave you a nod._
> 
> _“What happened next, in the story?”_
> 
> _You both looked up as your father walked over. He sat down on the blanket beside you and pulled you into his lap, giving you a big hug. “I want to hear more about beautiful Princess Y/N.”_
> 
> _Your mother gave him a warm smile. “I suppose I should continue, shouldn’t I?”_
> 
> _“Yes!” you squealed happily, leaning back against your father as she resumed her story about the little girl who shared your name._

You awoke suddenly, sitting straight up with a gasp.

It had been so long since you’d dreamt of your mother and father.

Your hands brushed away the tears that were slipping from your eyes as you glanced at the clock on the nightstand beside you. It was three in the morning again. You had developed a habit of waking up before you were needed.

 _Might as well stay up_ , you thought to yourself. Your step-family would be ringing for you soon, anyways.

You frowned at the thought of them.

You were only ten years old when your mother fell ill and passed away. You’d thought the pain would never end; the loss of a parent at a young age is not something you get over quickly. Time passed, though, and pain turned to memory.

Your father had looked after you as best he could, but he’d been _so lonely_ , and you were never one to deny him his happiness. He’d found another, someone to call his wife, someone to be your stepmother.

She was an angry, cold woman with two daughters of her own, Drisella and Anastasia. Your stepmother had apparently known grief herself; she’d told your father that her first husband, a businessman, had died of a heart attack.

It wasn’t until your own father had passed on that you learned the truth.

 _She’d killed him herself_.

Stepmother had wanted to take over her husband’s business, which as it turns out, wasn’t a coffee business at all. He hadn’t been making trips overseas to sell Columbia’s finest; no, he’d been a professional thief. He was often hired by very wealthy people to steal very specific items for their collections. Sometimes it was famous artwork, sometimes it was an antique or two, but most of the time, it was jewelry. Gold could be melted, gems could be refitted…yes, the black market for famous jewels was booming for him.

She told you all about it the day she threatened to kill you, too, if you didn’t do what she wanted.

Her method of choice had been poison. It was a refined woman’s weapon, she’d told you. One moment, her husband was alive and well, sitting down to dinner with his family. The next moment, he was choking on his food, turning all shades of blue and purple, until he was gone.

No one cared. The royal guards were thrilled when they heard he’d kicked the bucket. They’d been after him for years and years to no avail.

What they never anticipated, though, was his wife picking up where he left off.

Not that anyone suspected her. No, never her, with her fancy outfits and ladylike mannerisms. She would _never_ be that way, they said.

The moment she recounted her story to you, it struck you that she’d probably killed your father, too. He must have known too much, must have seen something. She’d simply needed him for a new name and a cover story.

And she needed you to clean up after her and her two daughters.

Every time they had a new job, they’d take up the entire dining room table. Blueprints of buildings and timelines and everything they needed, including weapons and tactical gear, were always laid out as they checked things off their lists.

It always started the same:

  1. _Know your mark._
  2. _Prepare a plan._
  3. _Execute the plan.  
_
  4. C _lean up._



That last one was always your job. They’d even nicknamed you Cinderella just to piss you off, after you’d come back from a job covered in soot from a  fireplace.

You had no experience with an actual heist, but you were skilled at removing any evidence. If you slipped up, one of them would kill you. If you refused to comply, you were dead.

_There was no way out._

The one time you’d tried to run away, you’d tripped their security system (that they purposefully didn’t tell you about), and they’d dragged you back, locking you in the attic. That’s where you’d been living ever since.

You leaned back against the cold wall that served as the headboard to your bed, your breathing finally evening out.

Clean up…what a joke. Getting rid of fingerprints, evidence, sometimes even blood…you weren’t meant for this life. You longed for the days where magic was still in the air, and your parents were protecting you.

There was no magic in this world, not any longer. It was a bleak existence, indeed.

You heard your mobile’s alarm go off at half past three.

“Time to start another day,” you muttered, slowly throwing off your threadbare covers and stretching. You grabbed your change of clothing and made your way to the guest bath downstairs.

* * *

“You’re late, Y/N,” your stepmother snapped. She was leaning over photographs that must have been from Drisella’s reconnaissance mission. “We have a new mark.”

“Useless _Cinderella_ ,” Anastasia added with an exaggerated eye roll. “You had better not slip up! We need this job.”

“I won’t,” you told her calmly. It was mornings like this that made you keep your mother’s words in your head; _have courage and be kind._ Even if they don’t deserve it in this case, you were still inclined to listen. “What’s the mark?”

“There’s a home not far from the hunting grounds, the one made of brick with the little blue shutters,” your stepmother began, shuffling some of the pictures around. “This one.”

You peered over, recognizing it immediately. “I’ve seen it before. What do they have?”

She looked up at you with her icy glare. “Our client is in desperate want of a very precious, very rare coin that the owner of this house keeps locked away.”

“Won’t that draw suspicion when the client takes it to the buyer?” you asked. Didn’t people ever learn? You _always_ get caught trying to resell the rare items.

Stepmother waved a hand at you. “That is none of our concern. We are simply going to retrieve and…reallocate the item.”

“Fine,” you said impatiently, biting your lip to stop from being snarky. _Be kind_ , you reminded yourself. “Who is going in first?”

“Anastasia is. You will be her secondary.”

Your eyes widened. “I’ve never – I’m not ready for that. I just do cleanup!”

“You’re her secondary, Y/N. Do _not_ make me repeat myself for a third time.”

You looked down at the pictures, your stomach churning. “Yes, Stepmother.”

“Good.” She righted herself and motioned for you to follow her. “Anastasia is waiting. The two of you will go on foot.”

“Won’t our tracks be fresh, then?”

“That’s your job to worry about, not mine.”

Your eyes met Anastasia’s as you walked into the foyer behind your stepmother.

“You ready, _Cinderella_?” she asked with an evil grin. “If you screw this up, Mother says I get to kill you myself.”

You ignored her and looked down at the gear you had to put on. Your main pieces tonight were night vision glasses that were way too worn out for the sort of precision you needed, a harness with a grappling hook in case you needed to scale the side of the house for a quick exit, and of course, your earpiece for communication with your nut job stepsister.

You snapped your gloves on and pulled your hat further down over your ears. With a nod, Anastasia pushed the front door open, and you followed close behind.

 _Have courage_ , you chanted in your head, over and over again. The kindness part wasn’t applicable; it wasn’t kind to steal. It made you feel dirty and unkind. It made your heart ache.

So instead of focusing on that, you just kept up your mantra. _Have courage…have courage…have courage…_

* * *

“Y/N, you had better move a little faster,” Anastasia hissed.

She’d secured the coin from a downstairs den, where it had been nestled in a fire-proof safe. You replaced the real coin with a fake, and with your black light you retraced your footsteps, wiping the room for any prints or hair or anything that might give you up.

“Come _on_!”

You shoved the light into your pack and slid out the window, closing it behind you as quietly as possible. Since the house was only two stories, you were able to climb down a bit further before you could jump to the ground. You landed as nimbly as a cat, immediately bolting for the cover of the trees.

“Out of sight,” you whispered to Anastasia via your earpiece. That was the code phrase to let her know you were done.

“Out of mind,” she replied coolly. You knew she didn’t care if you made it back okay. She had the coin secured in her backpack. She was probably halfway home by now.

You knelt down near a large oak tree, shoving your earpiece and the rest of your gear into your bag. The hat and gloves followed, since it wasn’t a cold night by any means and you didn’t want to raise anymore suspicion than you already would if someone found you.

When you stood back up, you turned around to head back home, and nearly ran into someone.

 _Good timing,_ you thought to yourself, trying to hide your nervousness.

“Excuse me, Miss,” a deep voice apologized. You squinted and made out the figure of a man in front of you. “I’m sorry for frightening you. But I have to ask, what are you doing in the woods before dawn?”

You stared at him, heat rising in your cheeks.  “I’m very sorry for nearly running into you, sir. I’m out for a walk to clear my head. I’ve had a nightmare, and couldn’t fall back to sleep.”

His beautiful blue eyes glinted with sympathy as he came a little closer, errant beams of moonlight shining on his features. “Ah, we’re out here for the same reasons then.” He motioned for you to walk, and quickly fell into step beside you. “What do they call you?”

“Never mind what they call me,” you replied softly, looking away from him. Each step you took was hesitant beside him, because you knew you had to get back. You weren’t quite ready for farewell, though. There was something about him…

“You shouldn’t be this deep in the woods alone, especially at this late hour.”

“I’m not alone, I’m with you, Mister -?” You realized that you hadn’t caught his name, either. “What do they call _you?_ ”

The handsome stranger chuckled. “You don’t know who I am? That is, they call me Bucky. Well, my father does, when he’s in a good mood.”

“And where do you live, Bucky?” You gave him a side-glance, knowing that if Anastasia saw you right now, she’d definitely squeal to her mother. You hoped she was home already.

“At the palace. I, um, I’m taking after my father, I guess you could say.”

Your eyes widened. “Oh, are you both in the King’s guard? That’s amazing.”

Bucky gave you a genuine smile. “Something like that.”

“Do they treat you well?” you asked, your voice uncertain. “That’s not why you have nightmares, right?”

“I’m treated well, better than I deserve, most likely. My nightmares are somewhat related, but not entirely.”

You knew he didn’t want to speak about them any longer, so you stopped your line of questioning.

“Are you treated well?” he asked gently.

You wanted to scoff, to tell him no, to beg him to bring his fellow guards and save you from your nightmares, but your mother’s words echoed in your head again. “They treat me as well as they’re able.”

“I’m sorry.” His brows furrowed in concern. “I highly doubt you deserve that.”

“I just try to have courage and be kind,” you told him, attempting to smile.

He was about to reply, when a tall man dressed as a King’s guard stepped in front of you both.

“There you are, Pri-“

“Bucky!” he called out loudly. “Yes, here I am! Give me a minute, I’m right behind you.”

“Oh, no,” you said with a small smirk. “Looks like your fellow guard has found you at this early hour.”

He turned back to you with his own sheepish grin. “I’m afraid so.” Bucky took a step backwards, away from you. “I hope to see you again, Miss.”

“And I, you.” You gave him a nod and a wave, and then turned to walk the edge of the woods, back towards your home. You checked your watch, groaning to yourself when you realized how long you’d taken with Bucky.

If you weren’t home in five minutes or less, there would be hell to pay.


	2. Chapter 2

“I wasn’t aware that you were so bad at fighting, Your Highness.”

Bucky smirked at his best friend and Captain of the Royal Guard, Steve Rogers. He rounded on the other man, his arms up in a fighting stance. 

The two were sparring in the spare room that was normally used for fencing. Today, the Prince had requested it for his own personal use, so that no one but Steve and a few trusted guards would see that he hated fencing but loved fighting.

“Now Steve, you also weren’t aware that I was going easy on you. I didn’t want to embarrass you in the company of your guardsmen.”

The blond man rolled his eyes. “As if you could, Your Highness.”  Steve crouched low to intercept a kick to the gut. He retaliated by taking a swing at the Prince while he was off-balance.

“I told you, it’s _Bucky_.” The Prince deftly moved out of the range of Steve’s fists. He circled Steve again, eyebrows raised in challenge.

“And I told you, I’m not permitted to call you that. I can’t even call you James, Your Highness.”

He threw another punch at the Prince, which was skillfully ducked in return. “I’m about to call _you_ a _weakling_ , Steve, as you’ve not managed to land a single punch on- _oof_!”

Steve grinned as a shot landed on the jaw, and Bucky went stumbling backwards. “You were saying, Your Highness?”

Bucky straightened himself, his blue eyes filled with laughter. “I deserved that one, I know.” He ran a hand over his jawline. “I hope you haven’t bruised my handsome face, Captain. You know I’m being sold to the highest bidder in two weeks time.”

“What a way to speak of your impending marriage.”

“It’s true, though, isn’t it? Father wishes for me to have an advantageous marriage. I really feel as if this is the Grand Duke’s influence over him.” Bucky cleared his throat. “He claims that if I don’t marry well, I’ll let the entire kingdom down.”

“Then we will call it a day. I don’t want to injure you more before your big moment at the ball. Besides, you seem a bit too distracted for fighting.” Steve moved off to the side of the room, and Bucky followed.

“I’m _very_ distracted, my friend.” He grinned at the Captain. “Remember the girl I spoke of earlier? The one that has my father on edge? I can’t stop thinking about her.”

“Ah, yes, the one maiden in the kingdom that couldn’t possibly provide you a good match, according to the King,” Steve recalled. “You do know that he and the Grand Duke are plotting to match you with a Princess, don’t you?”

“I’m aware.” Bucky gave a shrug. “They can’t really tell me what to do in the end, though, can they?”

The Captain made a face. “Of course they can. Your father is still the _King_ , don’t forget, regardless of his declining health. And we both know the Grand Duke isn’t short on allies. They could rewrite law in a heartbeat, just a few short words added to your royal duties, if it meant getting you to comply.”

“Ah, but the Princesses that they want me to woo…these women haven’t got the same kindness, nor the same spirit as my mystery maiden.” Bucky’s blue eyes sparkled at the memory of that chance meeting.

“I’ll take your word for it,” Steve said, clapping the Prince on the back. He motioned for Bucky to go through the door first, as they exited into the main hallway. “Now tell me, does she have a sister?” 

Bucky threw his head back laughing. “That, I definitely do not know.”

“Perhaps your mystery maiden will come to the ball?” Steve gave his best friend a knowing look. “That’s why you opened it to the public, isn’t it?”

“No, the war was difficult for everyone. The ball is a momentary distraction, a little bit of fun for the benefit of the people,” the Prince insisted with a sheepish smile. “And if she just happens to be there…well, then I might finally have the opportunity to prove my point about her.”

“Well, if this girl from the woods is as charming as you say, perhaps she will change their minds on her own.”

* * *

“Hey, Y/N!”

You whirled around when you heard someone call your name in the middle of the town’s open market, careful to move out of everyone else’s way. Your eyes searched the crowd until an arm shot up in the air and waved.

Someone you’d not seen in weeks appeared among the throng of people with a bright smile on his handsome face.

“Sam!” You grinned back at him and threw your arms around him when he got close enough. “Where have you been these days?”

“Working,” he supplied, pulling back from your embrace. “My boss has me working overtime these days to try to get everything ready for winter.”

Sam worked for a man named Vis, who called himself Vision to try to market his construction company as the latest and greatest there was. Technically, they were the _only_ construction company in the area, so it just went to show what an eccentric person Vis really was. Sam and his coworker Clint were Vis’ top two employees, with Vis’ wife Wanda adding her own personal touch to the interior design side of things.

“Whose home are you working away at now?” you asked. Some people in this town were more demanding than others, and you really didn’t want your friend to be taken advantage of. You’d heard horror stories about deplorable conditions over the kingdom, too. It was the Grand Duke’s responsibility to keep up with the needs of the people and report back to the King, but the one in place now only had an eye for the military.

Sam rolled his eyes. “Oh, it’s nothing, nowhere at all really. That is, if you think of the Royal Palace as nowhere at all.”

“What?!” You couldn’t believe it. “It’s such a big deal that Vis picked you, congratulations!”

“Vis just knows I’ll get the work done, that’s all. Besides, he didn’t want to go himself. He said the Grand Duke was a pain in the backside. Personally, I didn’t find him nearly as annoying as the Prince, though.”

“Oh? Is he unkind?” The mere idea of having a monarchy that was anything less than empathetic really turned your stomach.

“No, not really, but there’s just something _obnoxious_ about him.”

You gave him a small smile. “Even so, you’re bound to get more work after this. It can only be a good thing.”

“You’re right. So what are you up to?”

“I told Stepmother that I was going out for food, but I really came to get away from them. I have this bad feeling that something is going on with them that they aren’t telling me.”

“You’re good at snooping though, can’t you find out?” Sam nudged you with his elbow. “You’re instincts are rarely wrong.”

You chewed on your lower lip thoughtfully. “I need to try. There’s no way around it. I-”

Your thoughts were interrupted by the sound of someone hammering loudly. 

The two of you looked over to the bulletin board situated in front of the market, where all the royal announcements were posted. The Town Crier cleared his throat, before lifting the paper in his hands.

“Hear ye, hear ye,” he shouted. “Know, on this day, two weeks hence, there shall be held at the palace, a royal ball. At said ball, in accordance with ancient custom, the Prince shall choose a bride. Furthermore, at the behest of the Prince, it is hereby declared that every maiden in the kingdom, be she noble or commoner, is invited to attend. Such is the command of our most noble King!”

You turned to Sam with disbelief in your eyes. “Oh my goodness! I can see my handsome guard again!”

He looked at you in question. “See _who_ again?”

“I have to go! Goodbye, Sam! Good luck with the palace!” You ran off as quickly as you could. There was so much to be done, and you hoped upon hope that you would be permitted to attend the ball.

Sam scratched his head in confusion as he watched you disappear around a row of houses.

* * *

By the time you reached home again and told your step-family the news, you could hardly contain your excitement. You’d never dreamed of going to the palace, nor to a royal ball, but everything about it gave you a chance to find Bucky, even if you had to hike up your skirt and search the grounds for him. Maybe, if his superior officer was feeling lenient, he’d even be able to have a dance with you.

Drisella and Anastasia had a different reaction.

“This is _such_ an opportunity for us,” Drisella exclaimed.

“Sister, one of us could be a _princess_ ,” Anastasia added.

“Girls,” your stepmother chimed in. “Calm yourselves. That is all good and well, but I think you might be missing the bigger picture here.”

“What bigger picture, Mother?” Drisella’s hands went to her hips. “What could be bigger than being a princess?”

“Being a princess, _and_ robbing the royal palace.” Stepmother raised an evil eyebrow at her daughters. “One of you might just catch the eye of the Prince. But what if he’s already betrothed? What if he already has an eye on someone? The only way to ensure that this is a valuable use of our time is to make sure we set them up as our next mark.”

“Will this get us out of debt?” Drisella glanced at her sister.

“We _are_ in dire need of money since this one’s father kicked the bucket,” Anastasia added rather snidely, throwing a thumb in your direction.

“That’s ridiculous!” Your fury boiled over, and you couldn’t keep your mouth quiet any longer. It was one thing to insult you, but this was a whole different subject.

If they were to break into the palace, Bucky could get in trouble, or even get hurt if there was a skirmish. _You wouldn’t stand for it_. “What makes you think that the hundreds of royal guards that will be at the ball, not to mention those stationed outside, would ever let anyone get away with that while the King and Prince are present? The Grand Duke alone would-“

“You let me worry about the Grand Duke,” your stepmother snapped. She took a deep breath to calm herself, and then a smile appeared on her face. “ _Cinderella_ , dear, do remember your place. You’re too ambitious for your own good.”

Your eyes dropped to the ground. “Yes, Stepmother.”

“Now, I need you do make sure you get three fine ball gowns for the three of us. Drisella and Anastasia will be entertaining the Prince whilst I slip away and search out the valuables. We’ll need you there in your gear, of course, waiting for the signal.”

Oh, no. _No no no!_ “But Stepmother, won’t that be suspicious? How will I even get in?”

She smirked at you. “Well, since you’re so _familiar_ with the palace guards, why don’t you put those skills to use and figure it out? You are not to be seen in the main ballroom, do you understand?”

“Yes, Stepmother.” Thoughts of dancing with Bucky, so handsome in his guard uniform, crumbled away.

“Now go! Every girl in the kingdom will be chasing the Prince, we must get there before the seamstress is drowning in work!”

You turned from your step-family, chewing your lip nervously as you walked away. Now that the palace, and more specifically the Prince, were marks, what could you possibly do to prevent it?

You had to sabotage this plan. That was the only way to prevent your stepmother from ruining yet another person’s life. It was a chance to atone for all the things you’d help them do, for your complacency and cowardice. Even if you could never return once your mission was done, at least you would rest well knowing you did all you could for Bucky and the kingdom. 

Besides, this would give you an awfully good reason to see Bucky again, even if it wasn’t for a dance. 

Sam might have an idea. If he was building and repairing structures for the King, he would have a blueprint to the palace. That might give you an idea as to the route Stepmother was planning on taking. If they really expected you to clean up after them, they’d have to let you know the plan eventually anyway.

Preparation was going to be important here, and you had no room for mistakes at all. There was _no way on this good earth_ that you were going to let them hurt the employment chances of your friend Bucky and his father. You weren’t sure about the punishment for royal guards who failed to protect the King and Prince, but you hoped to never find out.

You had to quickly find a gown, and hide it so that Stepmother didn’t find out. Regardless of what she had told you, it was imperative that you get word to the Prince, even if you had to have a dance with him to get close enough. The rest you’d have to figure out later.

It was time to call in some favors.


	3. Chapter 3

The ball gowns for your stepsisters and stepmother were hanging in the front closet, waiting for them to return home from the salon in town. Each stepsister had chosen a ghastly design, with bright fluorescent colors and ribbons that didn’t even match. You weren’t sure why, when they were trying to be discreet, that they would let their terrible taste dictate their evening attire. At least Stepmother had chosen something a little more subtle, with a removable skirt in case she had to make a break for it.

Meanwhile, you were busy trying to reconstruct your own gown, and though you knew very little about sewing besides some basic mending, you felt like you were doing a fair job so far.

The dress you were adjusting had been your mother’s favorite gown. It was a simple thing, really, without all the frills you had become accustomed to seeing on your stepsisters’ many dresses, but it suited you just fine.

The majority of the fabric was a soft pink, with white trim here and there. Your mom had always looked so lovely in this shade; it highlighted her brown eyes and her gentle features.

It wasn’t really your favorite color, but you wanted to wear this dress. It would be like taking a piece of your mother with you, to help you be brave and strong when you needed it to save the Prince and King from your step-family. You could practically hear her mantra, _have courage and be kind,_ every time the fabric touched your skin.

And it certainly wouldn’t hurt for you to look your best, just in case you happened to run into a certain Royal Guard.

A small smile formed on your lips at the thought of him. How could it be that one brief encounter could have affected you so greatly? He probably didn’t even remember you.

Your smile faded into a frown. Why would he remember you? Besides, there would be Princesses and Ladies and other noble-persons there that would make a much better match for him than you.

You sighed out as you knotted the last piece of thread. The dress was finally finished, though your hopes for a match tonight were dashed.

With the dress against your frame, you stood and moved to the mirror, smoothing the fabric down with a nod to yourself. Tonight wasn’t about you, it was about doing what was right at any cost.

You’d be damned if your stepmother and her daughters were going to get away with this one.

* * *

After helping Drisella and Anastasia into their gowns, you made your way back upstairs to change into your stealth suit and gear. You had your dress rolled neatly in your bag, out of sight so that no one would catch you with it before it was time.

The plans to the palace that you’d gotten from Sam were folded in your bra of all places. That was one place (you hoped) no one would ever look. You needed them just to be sure of where you were going, and to try to keep one step ahead of your stepmother.

Sam had also given you a call button attached to a bracelet. It was so small that no one would notice that what you were wearing wasn’t just another simple bangle. He’d told you to use it in case of emergency, and he’d come help you, or find someone who could. You knew your best friend was worried, and you tried to reassure him that everything would be okay, but he insisted that you be prepared.

Now, you were grateful for the backup, even if you weren’t sure that you’d use it, or even be able to get to it if things took a turn for the worse tonight.

“ _CINDERELLA_!”

You whirled around to the doorway, your stepmother’s shout echoing up the stairs. “I’m ready! I had to get my gear,” you called back, trying to keep your voice even.

As you made your way down the stairs to the main foyer, you couldn’t help but roll your eyes at how absurd they all looked.

Stepmother smirked at you. “Glad to see that you came to your senses about attending the ball,” she said evenly, raising one eyebrow at you. “I wouldn’t want there to be an…unfortunate accident for your Royal Guard friend.”

You swore your heart stopped for a moment. “H-how do you know about him?” Your hands began to shake, and your pack slipped from your shoulder to the floor.

“Silly girl, I’ve known that you keep a diary upstairs under the floorboard. I read it. How else can I know what is going on with you? You’re far too secretive to be trusted.”

You gaped at her, mouth open in shock. “You read my diary? You went through my belongings, how _dare_ you? This is my father’s house, and you have _no right_ -“

“I can do whatever I want, you brat!” she snarled, stalking over to you. She reached down and grabbed your pack, and you moved to grab it back from her, but were too late. “Let’s just make sure that Y/N has only what she needs for tonight, shall we, girls?”

Your stepsisters grinned smugly at you as they moved closer, tearing open the bag and yanking out your mother’s dress.

“I knew it!” Stepmother rounded on you, shaking the dress in your face. “What is this? You just couldn’t stop yourself, could you, _Cinderella?_ ”

“All of the maidens of the land are invited,” you retorted, trying to stay calm. “It was the order of the King!”

“She disobeyed you, Mother,” Drisella said gleefully, clapping her hands.

“We caught her, and now she has to be punished!” Anastasia added, joining her sister in celebration.

“Enough!” Your stepmother glared at them until they quieted, then turned to you again, her eyes hard and cold. She lifted the dress and began to tear it, piece by piece, before your very eyes. Her daughters joined in right after, and you couldn’t stop the tears from spilling from your eyes at the sight of the dress being ruined.

Your mother’s memory was literally being torn from your hands tonight, and it was being done with delight. These women, all three of them, were truly evil.

“How _could_ you?” you whispered, your voice barely loud enough for your own ears. “That was my mother’s dress, how-“

“How could I otherwise?” Stepmother tossed the remaining bits to the ground. “If you don’t do your job, and do it well, to the _smallest detail_ of our plan, that won’t be the only thing I ruin for you, Y/N. Remember who you are, and your place in this world. Do _not_ disobey me again!”

Your whole body trembled as you stared at the bits of fabric on the ground, but you said nothing more. The trio grabbed their belongings and made their way outside to the waiting car.

After the door was closed behind them, you fell to your knees, grasping what was left of the gown in your hands in despair. You buried your face in the soft cloth, letting all your sadness seep through your tears. Your shoulders shook as you sobbed.

“I’m sorry, Mother,” you wept, the stress of it all finally getting to you. “I said I’d have courage, but I’m failing. You were _wrong_. There’s _no_ magic in this land, no hope left for me at all. _I don’t believe anymore_.”

A moment later, you heard the front door open, and you looked up through your teary eyes to see a body silhouetted against the moonlight that poured into the doorway.

You stiffened, praying that it wasn’t one of your step-family returning.

The figure moved forward, and you saw a man standing with his hands tucked in his pockets. He was wearing a vest to match his dress pants, with an expensive-looking shirt and tie to complete the ensemble. Blue sunglasses adorned his face, though you couldn’t imagine why he’d need them in the dark of night. His brown hair was messy, and he gave you a confident smirk.

“Are you Y/N?” he asked. “Because I’m here to help a strong, capable woman, not someone sniveling on the ground.”

“Excuse me?” You lifted your chin, staring at him in disbelief. “I don’t know you, Sir, and I would presume that you don’t know me either. So let’s keep the judgments to ourselves, shall we?”

He grinned, moving closer to you. “There she is. That’s more like it. I needed to hear some snark to know it was really you, Y/N.”

“I’m not finding this any less confusing.”

The man took a few more steps, moving closer to you until he stopped and held out his hand. He nodded at you. “Time to get up, princess. You’ve got a heist to stop.”

* * *

It turned out that in your hustle to stop your stepmother from tearing your mother’s dress apart, you accidentally pushed the button on your bracelet. That’s what triggered the call to this man who was now in your front room, sitting on the chaise with his legs crossed as he watched you carefully.

His name was Tony Stark, and he was the brightest, most innovative man in the whole country. He was as rich as the monarchs, but free to use his wealth for his own wants and purposes.

And, it just so happened that he was your Godfather.

“If you’re really my Godfather, where have you been all these years,” you questioned, your voice a little accusatory. “You left me to rot with these awful people!”

“I _didn’t know_ , to be fair,” he protested, holding his hands up in the air. “I didn’t know you were still alive, still kicking, I _swear_ to you. When your mother passed, your father made me promise to look out for you each time he was on the road, but your stepmother here spread the news to my assistant that you had been killed. Y/N, I-“

You eyed him as his voice caught in his throat. He coughed in an attempt to clear it.

“Y/N,” he started again. “I would have never left you alone with these vile people had I known a thing about it.”

“Yes, well,” you said with a shrug, looking away. You didn’t want to show him how hurt you were. “I’ve got more important things to worry about tonight.”

“I know, Sam told me.” Tony pushed his glasses up his nose and stood, motioning for you to follow him. He grabbed a case and a large bag that were still propped up in the doorway, and the two of you wandered out to the back yard, where he set everything down.

“How do you know Sam? Why wouldn’t he have told you I was alive?”

“So many questions for one girl,” Tony said, clucking his tongue at you. “Sam didn’t know that we were acquainted. He came to me asking for help because of my rep for high tech gear. It wasn’t until we got to talking about you that I put two and two together, and now I’m here. So please, questions later, and stopping evildoers first, okay?”

You nodded reluctantly, and he clapped his hands together once.

“Great. Now, what first? Oh…I think you’ll be needing these.” He held up a set of keys and jingled them before tossing them to you.

You caught them with ease. “What are these for?”

“Your getaway car,” he said, shrugging his shoulders. “Just in case.” Tony moved to open the case, turning it toward you.

Inside were all sorts of high-tech gadgets and equipment. You saw new night vision glasses, which you desperately needed as yours were terribly scuffed. There was a new wireless earpiece with a longer built-in range and more available channels. You let your fingers run lightly over all gear until they stopped on a gun.

“I’m not using that,” you said sharply, pulling your hand away. “I won’t.”

“You might need to, princess,” Tony said with a shrug. “You don’t have to use it unless you _have_ to use it, got it?”

You chewed your lip nervously. “What will it matter if I can’t even get to the Prince to warn him?”

Tony furrowed his brows in confusion. “What do you mean?”

With a quick sigh, you gestured at your stealth suit. “I can’t exactly walk into a royal palace wearing this. They’ll lock me away before I even make eye contact with one person in the ballroom.”

“No,” he agreed with a laugh. “You wouldn’t even make it up the drive.” Tony turned to the larger bag, smirking at you over his shoulder. “It’s a good thing your godfather came prepared, then, isn’t it?”

When he opened the bag, he revealed the single most beautiful ball gown you’d ever laid eyes on. It was blue and shimmered in the light, and it had little butterflies all over it.

“That is lovely,” you sighed out, longing to touch the fabric. You reached out for it and realized that it was open on the back. “This dress isn’t finished, Tony.”

“Oh!” He chuckled. “No, here, put it on.”

You slipped your arms through, bringing the dress up around your body. As soon as you did, you felt it enclose itself around you, winding the fabric together itself. “How-?”

Tony splayed his hands out in front of him. “What, do you think I don’t know how to make pretty stealth suits? Come on, Y/N. Give your godfather some credit here.” He moved around behind you to make sure the suit had finished binding itself together. “It’s new lightweight tech, made so that you can move around easily once you have to run. I’ve got a couple suits of my own with tech like this, although they aren’t exactly ball gowns.” 

He circled around you, pointing to the ruffles along the neckline. “Each little butterfly has a smoke bomb woven into it, because number one those are cool, and number two you might need a cover.”

Tony moved back around to look at you. “There’s one more feature on the dress itself that is unique to your experience tonight. If you push the button tucked in right cap sleeve, the dress will disintegrate without harming you. It will be as if you were never at the ball, as if there was never any dress. Once you push that button, though, you’ve got to hightail it out of there and get to wherever you were planning on going, or else your stealth suit underneath will be revealed. They might think you are there to harm rather than help.”

“Got it,” you told him, completely awestruck. You marveled at the idea of one dress being so useful. “What about my face?”

He frowned. “You’ve got a lovely face. Don’t put yourself down.”

“No, I- I mean, what if my step-family sees me? They’ll recognize me right away, and I’m sure they’ll merely shoot to kill this time.”

“Ah. I almost forgot.” Tony wiped a hand down his face in thought, before reaching into the case. He clipped something to your hair that looked like a diamond butterfly with a small, translucent mesh piece attached that covered your face. “This will project a different face to the crowd. Anyone that is eight inches or less from your face will see the real you.”

“Eight?” you questioned. “Why eight?”

He gave another shrug. “A foot seemed too far, and six inches, too close. This means that you absolutely have to dance with the Prince. He’ll know your face, and if the guards come for you he can vouch for you. And just maybe, if you see your guard, he’ll recognize you, too.”

You smiled at him gratefully. “Thank you so much. I don’t know how I can repay you.”

“You can repay me by being careful, and, you know, preventing the whole ‘collapse-of-the-monarchy’ thing.” Tony grinned at you, his eyes blinking a few extra times before he grabbed you into a warm hug. “Go get ‘em, Y/N’”

You pulled back and gave a reassuring nod. “I can do this.” You turned to grab the gear when Tony stopped you with a hand on your arm.

“What?” you asked, brows furrowed. “Have I forgotten something? I’m going to be late!”

“Your shoes,” Tony said, shaking his head. He moved to the bag again, digging through it.

You peered down at the dark boots on your feet. “I always wear these on jobs. Won’t the skirt cover them up?”

“Maybe, but I’m not having my goddaughter out at the royal palace with these big ugly work boots. Have some style,” he retorted. He turned and set something down in front of you. “Try them.”

Your hands pulled the skirt of your dress aside, you finally saw what he was referring to. “Glass slippers? Won’t those be a little difficult to run or fight in?”

“Try them,” he said again, looking rather pleased with himself.

You sighed and kicked off your boots, stepping carefully into the slippers. They were actually quite comfortable.

“Nice, huh?” He wagged his eyebrows at you. “And if you’ll notice, they don’t make a sound when you walk. It will help you sneak around if you need to.”

“Really?” You tested this out by walking around on the concrete steps a bit. There wasn’t even a single little click from the heels. “Impressive!”

“Now get going my dear, and remember the entire kingdom is riding on this. No pressure.”

“Thank you for everything.” You forced a smile to your face to stifle the anxiety in your stomach.

Once your gear had been gathered, you slid into the car Tony lent you, and took off to the palace. The ball had surely started by now.

You just hoped you weren’t too late.


	4. Chapter 4

Bucky stared glumly at the ladies gathered on the grand staircase waiting to be announced. Thus far, none of them were his maiden from the woods, and he wasn’t above making his displeasure known.

He was standing next to the throne where his father, the King, sat to observe guests and greet dignitaries.

“Your Highness,” the Captain said quietly beside him. “You could at least pretend to be excited, for the King’s sake.”

He turned to his best friend. “Steve, if I pretend to look excited, then he will think that I have any interest in these Princesses, Dames, Ladies, and whomever else has decided to show tonight.” Bucky let out a deep breath. “Perhaps _she_ is not going to show after all.”

“Who? The girl from the edge of the hunting grounds?” Steve shook his head. “There is still time. The ball has not even begun.”

Bucky’s eyes widened when he saw his father raise a hand in greeting to Princess Natasha as she was announced. “Father…”

The King turned to give him a knowing look. “I know why you are so serious tonight. You’re waiting for the girl you met _once_ in the woods. She has turned your head, perhaps too far from your duties. I’ll have you remember that you are to meet and marry a _princess_ tonight, regardless of how generous you’ve been with the invitations.”

“But Father, I-“

“No buts,” the King warned, turning back to the crowd. “It’s a princess, or no one.”

Bucky straightened his back as the Grand Duke, Loki Laufeyson, made his way over to them, with Princess Natasha on his arm.

“May I present to you, Her Royal Highness, the Princess Natasha of Zaragosa.” He gave Bucky a calculated smirk, before bowing and moving aside.

With as much fake politeness as he could muster, Bucky approached the Princess and took her hand, giving it a quick kiss as he bowed to her.

“You’re as handsome as your picture,” Princess Natasha said with a wink. “And your little kingdom is enchanting.”

“I hope the Princess will not find our _little kingdom_ too confining,” he replied in an even tone.

The King rolled his eyes behind his son’s back.

All attention turned to the grand staircase, where the town crier stood to announce the start of the ball. “Your Majesty, Your Royal Highness, my Lords, Ladies, and Gentlemen, distinguished visitors, and people of our land: The Prince will now choose his partner for the first dance. Let our ball commence!”

Bucky looked at the crowd on the dance floor, then to Princess Natasha with wide eyes.

* * *

You parked the car right outside the gate, not wanting to have your getaway car trapped should you need to make a quick exit. With your bag in hand, and having gone over your plan at least ten times in the car ride over to the Palace out loud, you gave yourself a nod in the rear-view mirror and exited the car.

The glass slippers that Tony had given you stayed perfectly silent as you stepped to the pavement.

All of the guests must have already been inside for the start of the ball, so you quickly and quietly made your way up the walk, through the main gate, and through the main entrance way inside the building. There was no time to marvel at the lovely grounds and beautiful castle, nor was there time to let yourself feel the magic in the air all around you. On any other occasion, you would have been completely astonished by your current situation, but tonight, you didn’t have that luxury.

 _This is too important_ , you reminded yourself. _Focus._

The hallway only had a few guards lining it. You avoided eye contact, carefully stepping down the center of the rug, your eyes flitting back and forth to try to find a place to stash your bag. You’d brought extra equipment, and despite what your Godfather said, you’d brought your trusty boots with you, too.

Your eyes landed on a set of armor on a stand across from the ballroom doors. With a casual glance around, you saw that no one was watching you, so you moved quickly toward it. You shoved your bag behind its base, knowing that it would be well-hidden from most angles and prying eyes.

With a turn, you moved the doors to the grand ballroom. A quick press of a button set the butterfly clip into action, and a light mesh screen wound its way over your face to disguise you. If the people were already started dancing, there was no way that they would pay attention to you now. At least you hoped not, as you turned the ornate door handle and pushed.

The door opened, and you were shocked to see that everyone had already taken their place on the ballroom floor. The crowd grew quiet as you moved closer to the staircase.

When your eyes slid to the left, you caught a glimpse of the King, and your handsome Royal Guard Bucky standing beside him.

 _Wait_.

No, he couldn’t be a Royal Guard if he-

You felt your stomach do a flip, your palms suddenly sweaty. A closer look at his uniform showed that it wasn’t the same he’d been wearing while hunting. It was far more decorated, with the markings of… _royalty._

_Bucky was the Prince?_

“ _Oh, no_ ,” you whispered to yourself in horror. You tried to hide your face as you curtsied gracefully, careful not to drop anything. You might have ditched your bag safely in the hall, but you were still packing under this dress, and you didn’t want to alarm anyone or end up drawing the attention of your step-family.

When you looked back up, you saw disappointment cross Bucky’s features. He didn’t know it was you, with your disguise in covering your face. You had to make sure to stay over eight inches from anyone in the crowd, or they would see through your disguise. If anyone recognized you, it was all over.

You walked down the stairs carefully, smiling at everyone you passed to seem more like a regular maiden looking to meet the Prince. For all they knew, you were a princess as well, since your godfather Tony had outdone himself with this gown and shoes.

Movement on the upper balcony caught your eye, and you felt like you’d finally caught a break as Bucky headed for the stairs, straight past the beautiful red-headed woman who had been smiling at him when you first walked in.

The crowd in front of you parted for the Prince, and he kept his eyes trained on you as he walked closer. To say you were nervous was an understatement; now, not only did you get to see your handsome friend, but he was the one you had to protect.

And the way he was looking at you, well, that wasn’t helping your concentration _at all_.

Bucky kept walking, and once he was right in front of you, his face mere inches from yours, he smiled brilliantly.  

“Mister Bucky,” you said softly, unable to stop your own small smile from forming on your lips. You were so excited to see him, no matter how many times you reminded yourself that you both were in danger.

This was a risk _worth_ taking.

“It’s you,” Bucky said quietly. “Isn’t it?” His blue eyes searched your own.  

“Just so.” You gave a little shrug and a cheeky smile. You wanted to warn him now, but there was no way to do it with every pair of eyes in the ballroom watching. “How did you know?”

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “I was just…drawn to you.”

You looked down at your gown, heat rushing to your cheeks. This wasn’t like you at all; normally you were in and out, your job done with expert precision. _Don’t let your emotions put him in danger,_ you scolded yourself.

“If I may,” Bucky began, his voice wavering ever-so-slightly. He lifted your chin gently. “That is, it would give me the greatest pleasure if you would do me the honor of letting me lead you through this, the first…”

“Dance?” you supplied, your smile growing.

“Yes, dance. That’s it.” Bucky laughed, his ears tinged red with embarrassment.

You gave a nod, and curtsied to him again.

Unfortunately, the eyes of the crowd didn’t stop watching the two of you as he slid an arm around your waist, pulling you toward him. You inhaled sharply at the feel of his arm around you, his muscular body flush against your own.

The music swelled, and the two of you began to move in unison.

“They’re all looking at you,” you said softly, observing the number of people and your potential exit points in the ballroom.

“Believe me, they’re all looking at you,” Bucky breathed out, his other hand clasping yours as he twirled you around. The skirt of your gown swept across the floor, and you’d never felt more beautiful or fancy in your entire life.

You still hadn’t spotted your stepmother or stepsisters. If you remembered correctly, the first piece to their plan was for Stepmother to find the Grand Duke and disable him, whatever that meant. She hadn’t divulged that part to you.

Drisella and Anastasia were all set to distract the Prince and the Royal Guard Captain, respectively, but you’d already ruined that part of the plan by dancing with Bucky yourself.

As you danced past the crowd, you made sure he didn’t lead you too close to the people standing along the edge, remembering Tony’s warning about your disguise. That’s when you spotted your stepmother and stepsisters staring at you and the Prince, and reality came crashing back down for you.

You had to warn him. No more indulging in this fantasy world. You’d had your fun, as brief as it was. Now, you had to stop your stepmother at all costs.

“Please,” you whispered to him. “Can I ask for a moment alone?”

Bucky’s eyes widened slightly in confusion, but he nodded. “Of course.”

He took your hand and led you through the dancing crowd, and you kept your head down just to be safe.

Once you were in the safety of an adjoining room, with the door locked, you yanked out the butterfly clip, grasping it tightly as you whirled around to face him. “So you’re the Prince?”

“Not _the_ Prince, exactly. There are a bunch of princes in the world. I’m merely _a_ Prince.”

“But you’re name’s not really Bucky.”

“Oh, sadly it is.” His mouth quirked up. “My name is James Buchanan Barnes. My father calls me Bucky, and my friends.”

“And you’re no Royal Guard,” you pointed out, turning away from him. Your gaze settled on a large portrait of him on a horse, his sword raised as if he was leading a great army into battle.

“Technically, I am the _head_ of the Royal Guard. But, I do tend to leave most of those duties to the Captain, who happens to be my best friend.” He moved forward, following you as you eyed the room, looking for any cameras or recording devices. “Please forgive me. I thought you might treat me differently if you knew my title. I had mistaken you for a simple country girl.”

“I _am_ one,” you replied, turning to look at him again. “I haven’t much time left. I need to tell you something, Bucky, and I need you to believe me, and not think I’ve lost my mind.”

“Come with me.” He held his hand out to you, and you took it firmly, allowing him to lead you back outside.

* * *

The Grand Duke paced angrily on the balcony. He had watched the Prince leave with the strange maiden in the blue ball gown, and he was not happy at all.

Steve tried to get him to listen to reason. “The Prince seems quite taken with her. Perhaps we should allow him his own choice in this matter.”

“She went straight for him,” Loki snarled. “You have to appreciate her efficiency, though I doubt she is anything more than someone seeking the crown and all its benefits.”

“Surely if she is a princess, it can only be a good thing?”

“I’ve already promised him in marriage to Princess Natasha.”

Stepmother peered around the corner of the balcony doorway, not-so-quietly making her presence known. “Oh, forgive me,” she said, her voice steeped with a fake politeness. “Your Grace, I did not mean to intrude.”

The Grand Duke and Captain both bowed to her, annoyance flashing on Loki’s features. “No, it is you who must forgive me, Madam,” he said, attempting to slither out past her.

“Your secret is safe with me,” she added, stopping him in his tracks. She bowed again, this time moving so they could get past her. They moved quickly, no longer interested in sharing conversation in public.

She took a few steps backwards, peering around the corner as she watched the Grand Duke stalk away. With an innocent glance back to the ballroom, she followed him.

* * *

“I’ve never shown anyone this place,” Bucky told you, his hand still clutching yours. “We will be uninterrupted here.”

He led you to an ornate bench that sat in front of a reflecting pool, where the moonlight glittered off the water. You tore your eyes away from the beauty of the gardens to look up at him. “Bucky, you’re in trouble. The kingdom is in trouble.”

He frowned at you, brows furrowing. “What do you mean?”

You turned to him, taking his hand in yours gently. “There are three women here tonight that are planning on robbing you blind. They want jewels and money, and they want to bankrupt the King for ransom.”

Bucky let out a harsh breath. “Who are these women?”

“I cannot say. Please just trust me, I can help, I can stop them. I just need time, and a bit of distraction from the crowds.”

“Nonsense,” he said, standing up. He raked a hand through his hair. “My guards will stop them.”

“You don’t understand,” you told him, standing up as well. “These are highly advanced criminals. Your guards will be dead before a word is breathed to you.”

Bucky eyed you. “How do you know all this?”

“I cannot say,” you repeated, growing desperate. “Please believe me, _trust me_. Can you please let me do this for you?”

“No,” he said, shaking his head. “I cannot risk it. My father is in poor health, my guards are at the ready, and I will not risk your safety for these…these _thieves_.”

Your heart clenched. “If you will not let me do my work, then let me apologize ahead of time. I had a wonderful time tonight, truly.” You gave him a sweet smile.

Bucky looked at you in confusion. “What are you-“

His voice cut off and his eyes closed as he succumbed to the sedative you plunged into his neck. His body slumped forward, and it took all your strength to place him carefully on the bench.

“I’m so sorry,” you whispered, knowing that this definitely eliminated any chance you would have had with him. You leaned forward and placed a soft kiss on his forehead, brushing his hair back tenderly. “I have to protect you. I have to protect the kingdom. Perhaps one day you will understand.”

You straightened just in time to hear a loud shout followed by some screaming. It was coming from the palace. With one last look to Bucky, you pressed the button on your sleeve, and your dress slowly disintegrated before your eyes. In its place was your normal stealth suit.

The stupid slippers were still on your feet, though. You’d have to make your way back to the hallway and grab your bag with your boots in them.

“Be safe,” you pleaded quietly to Bucky’s unconscious form, before turning to run through the gardens and back to the palace.

As you ran, your heel caught on a cobblestone and came right off your foot. You let out a loud curse as you glanced backwards at the glass slipper. Rather than waste another second, and with a quick apology in your head to your Godfather, you peeled the other heel off your foot and tucked it in your belt.

It was time to go after your step-family and end this once and for all. No more running.

_No more Cinderella._


	5. Chapter 5

You knew you had about twenty minutes before the Prince would awaken from the light sedative that you’d given him. That was enough time for you to figure out where your stepmother was before he needlessly put himself in danger.

With your boots firmly on your feet, and your stun gun from your godfather firmly in your hand, you crept along the hallways until you reached the stairs that would lead you to the vault.

Guards were down to your left and right, piled on top of each other as if they weren’t even human. You prayed silently that they were all right, knowing that if you didn’t stop her while you could, any chance _anyone_ in the kingdom had to stay safe would be lost.

You saw her almost immediately. She’d already placed a hacking device on the door panel, hoping that it would reveal its secret code to her as quickly as possible.

What you hadn’t anticipated were your stepsisters standing guard.

“It’s about time you got here,” Drisella snapped. “We were almost caught, twice!”

Anastasia crossed her arms over her chest indignantly. “As if she cares about us! She’s too worried about that stupid guard she’s in love with!”

“I’m here, aren’t I?” you snapped, playing along. “I got held up by the Duke’s personal guards. I had to sedate them.”

“ _Shhh_!”

All three of you looked back to your stepmother.

She stared at the device that she had plugged into the panel, before punching a twelve digit code on the keypad. The vault door swung open, revealing the most beautiful gems you had ever seen.

“Don’t just stand there, start packing,” she instructed her daughters. When her eyes landed on you, they narrowed. “You, however, can move to the end of the hall to keep watch.”

“Yes, Stepmother,” you said obediently. You turned and started walking a few steps. Once you heard her speaking to Drisella and Anastasia again, you looked over your shoulder.

They were all inside the vault. There was no way out of the vault.

_Now was your chance._

With a courage you mustered from your very core, you turned and bolted to the vault door, pulling it halfway closed on them before they even knew what was happening.

The last thing you saw before the door shut was your stepmother’s vicious eyes locked on yours.

For good measure, you pulled out your stun gun and went over to the panel on the wall that controlled the door’s movements. You shoved the device into the same slot that your stepmother had put the hacking device, and in seconds it was sparking.

You didn’t walk away until the panel flashed a security lock, stating that the authorities had been notified.

It was time to get the hell out of there.

* * *

“You had to go and choose that one, didn’t you?” Steve asked, half-jokingly glaring at his best friend.

Bucky had woken up on the same bench where he’d last seen his lovely maiden. He’d immediately searched the gardens for her, finding nothing but her lost glass slipper.

“Yes, I did,” he said breathlessly to the Captain.

The Grand Duke refused to let him chase after her, using the excuse of the three criminals found locked in the vault. Bucky had been told that the apprehension of these thieves was suspicious, and that the only person missing was his fair maiden from the woods.

Somewhere deep down, Bucky knew that she had helped somehow. He knew that she had protected him; this beautiful, ever-so-capable woman would not be quick to leave his memory.

The Grand Duke Loki and the guard Captain rode out together, chasing the last car that had been seen leaving the palace grounds. It was all for naught when a booby trap closed the main gate on them.

Loki watched in anger and frustration as the one loose end that would tie him to this whole fiasco drove away into the night.

* * *

You arrived back to your father’s home in little to no time, thanks to the car you had been loaned by Tony. He was gone, naturally; you figured he had only intended to see you off, and you were right.

The rain poured down on you as you exited the car, stashing it behind some trees and brush for good measure.  You let out a laugh, raising your arms to the clouds above, as if the rainwater could somehow wash away your previous crimes and make you whole again.

You’d accomplished what you set out to do, after all. The kingdom was free, your step-family should be rightfully behind bars by now, and above all else, your handsome Prince was safe.

The Prince. _Your Bucky was the Prince!_ The sweet, kind, inquisitive man that you had met along the edge of the hunting grounds ended up being the man you were trying to safe.

You thought it a fitting final moment for your life in this particular kingdom. No doubt, you’d have to leave. Too many people had seen your face after you’d misplaced your butterfly clip disguise. Too many people would recognize you from the market, from trips to see Sam, or anything about town, really. It wasn’t safe to stay, though you hated to leave your parents’ house and its memories.

The first thing you did upon entering your home was lose the stealth suit. You changed into your everyday clothes and shoved the suit into the fireplace, watching for a moment as it burned away, and feeling the years of anxiety and imprisonment burn away with it.

Then, you packed all your most important belongings. You knew time was of the essence, and it wouldn’t be long before some do-gooder (or someone looking to hurt you and find favor with the Duke) would give you away.

Tony’s place was available until you made plans to leave for the next kingdom over. You heard that King T’Challa was a forgiving man, who had no tolerance for criminals, but had every bit as much empathy as you did. He was your best shot at a future free of your step-family.

You hurried down the steps, eyes on the ground before you so that you and the bag on your shoulder didn’t take a tumble. There was a glass slipper in there, after all, and you didn’t wish for it to shatter on the way to your sanctuary. You wanted to remember every single bit of the ball, including your time with the Prince. 

_Above all, the Prince._

“Going somewhere?”

The blood in your veins ran cold as you stopped and met the eyes of your evil stepmother.

* * *

“Oh, you’ve come. Good.”

“Father. _Don’t go_.” Bucky knelt along the bed, taking his father’s hand gently.

“I must,” the King replied to his son. “You needn’t be alone. Take a bride. The Princess Natasha? What if I commanded you to do so?”

“I love and respect you, but I will not,” Bucky replied, his voice wavering. Tears flooded his eyes as he gazed upon his dying father. “I believe that we need not look outside of our borders for strength, nor guidance. What we need is right before us. We need only to have courage and be kind to see it.”

“Just so,” the King murmured, his strength waning. “You’ve become your own man. Good. And perhaps in the little time left to me, I can become the father you deserve.”

Bucky shook his head in question.

“You must _not_ marry for advantage,” the King continued. “You must marry for love. Find that girl. _Find her_ , the one everyone is talking about, the forgetful one who loses her shoes.”

“Thank you, Father.” Bucky smiled for the first time since waking up on the bench, his eyes full of tears. He knew that would be his father’s last command.

“Thank you, Bucky. I love you, son.”

“I love _you_ , Father.”

Bucky laid his head upon his father’s chest and wept, holding him until daylight broke, and the last breath left the King.

* * *

Once the time for mourning had passed, a proclamation was sent out.

“Hear ye, hear ye, hear ye! Know that our new King hereby declares his love for the mysterious maiden that wore glass slippers to the ball and requests that she presents herself at the palace, whereupon, if she be willing, he will, forthwith, marry her.”

Sam’s ears perked up at the news. He’d heard from Tony Stark that his best friend had gone to the ball and successfully stopped her step-family from ruining the kingdom with their thievery; however, he’d not heard a peep from her since. Since Tony had described the gifts he’d offered her that night as protection, including the now infamous glass slippers, Sam knew that it was his friend they were talking about.

“Damn,” he muttered, scratching his head.

Tony hadn’t been worried when you didn’t show up to his place. He figured you’d left the kingdom altogether.

Sam knew that if you’d found an out, you wouldn’t leave without word to people who cared about you.

Now he was nervous. He took off in a jog toward the palace, intending on using his current construction credentials to have a word with the new King.

* * *

“There must be quite a story to go with this,” your stepmother said, waving the glass slipper she’d stolen from your bag in front of her face. “Won’t you tell me? No?”

She took a few steps closer, grinning wickedly. “All right then. I shall tell _you_ a story. Once upon a time, there was a beautiful young girl who married for love, and she had two lovely daughters. All was well, but one day, her husband, the light of her life, died. The next time, she married for the sake of her daughters. And that man, too, was taken from her. Then, she was doomed to look every day upon his beloved child.”

“That’s not what happened at all,” you snapped. “You’ve killed both your husbands, and any troubles you’ve had since are of your own creation.”

“She had hoped to marry off one of her beautiful, stupid daughters to the Prince, but his head was turned by a girl with glass slippers. A girl who, despite knowing the extent of a well-made plan, locked her stepmother and stepsisters in a vault to be captured by royal guards.”

You snorted and rolled your eyes. “You are far too trusting, Stepmother.”

Her grin widened. “Am I?” A few more steps and she was in front of your face, her eyes wide. “If I was _so trusting_ , would I have made a deal with the Grand Duke to let me out?”

“If that is the truth, then where are your daughters?”

“They are being given a chance at the glass slipper as we speak,” she said, her tone dangerous. “The Grand Duke promised them advantageous marriages either way.”

“Great,” you said sarcastically. “Finally, some good news for you.”

She raised one eyebrow. “That is not all. My story would appear to be ended, but for some questions I have. Did you steal this?”

“No,” you replied, glancing down at your beautiful glass slipper in her hand. “It was given to me.”

“Nothing is ever given,” your stepmother scoffed. “For everything you must pay and pay.”

“That’s not true,” you said, your heart clenching at the realization. “ _Kindness_ is free. _Love is free.”_

“Love is not free,” she snapped, taking a deep breath to regain some composure. “Here is how you will pay me, if I am to let you go and give you what you desire. No one will believe you, after all, if you lay claim to the Prince’s heart. But with a respectable gentlewoman to nudge you forward? You will not be ignored.”

You didn’t like the sound of this. She’d definitely made plans with the Grand Duke, none of which seemed to involve you getting out of this kingdom worry free.

“When you are married, you will make _me_ head of the Royal household. I shall manage that boy.”

“He’s not a _boy,_ ” you told her, your astonishment at her lack of understanding out in the open.

“And who are you?” she asked, smirking at the slipper in her hand. “How would you rule a kingdom? Leave it to me, that way we all get what we want.”

“No. I was not able to protect my father from you, but I will protect the Prince and the kingdom, no matter what becomes of me.”

“Well,” she breathed, her smirk growing more wicked. “ _That_ is a mistake.”

You watched in horror as she slammed your glass slipper against the banister and it shattered into a million pieces. “Why are you so cruel? My whole life, I’ve tried to help you with your business and your crimes. I’ve not said a word while I covered your tracks and you grew wealthier. Why would you not allow me this one solace in life, this one chance at happiness? Why?”

“Why?” she snarled. “Because you are young and innocent, and I…” She lifted her other hand toward you before she could finish her statement, and you felt the sting of the tranquilizer dart tearing through your skin as you collapsed in a heap on the floor.

All consciousness was lost.

* * *

“The people need to know that the Kingdom is secure,” Loki said harshly, standing before the Prince in full uniform. “They want to face the future with certainty.”

“Then let us be certain, _**I** am the King_,” Bucky retorted, using his full height in front of the Grand Duke, his eyes blazing. “I say we shall seek out the mystery maiden who saved us from ruin, even if she does not want to be found.”

“But if she is not found, for the good of the Kingdom,” Loki said, feigning a need for approval. “You must marry the Princess Natasha. For the good of the kingdom.”

Bucky flinched, looking down at his hands. His mind raced as he thought of the implications; to spend a lifetime without the woman who held his heart was an unbearable thought. But he was the King, and he had a promise to keep to his people. “Very well, agreed.”

“But Your Majesty,” Steve protested softly beside him. His face fell when Bucky looked at him with determination. He knew the Prince thought he would not lose, that his mystery maiden would be found. He hoped to the ends of this good earth that his best friend was right.

“You will spare no effort,” Bucky told the Duke, his voice cold.

“Your Majesty, of course, you have my word.” Loki bowed with a smirk, before turning to slip out of the throne room.

Bucky eyed him warily as he left, looking to the Captain. “Shall I follow him in his efforts?”

“I think it would be a wise decision, Your Majesty.”

“For the love of all that is good, call me Bucky.”

There, in the throne room and for the first time ever, the Royal Guard Captain turned to the King and spoke out of turn. “Bucky, don’t you dare trust him.”

Bucky gave a solemn nod, then headed to the stables to join the search party himself undercover.

If his maiden was so good at sneaking around, perhaps he could be, too... 

...for her sake.

* * *


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Heavy Disney-esque cheese.

The Grand Duke made good on his promise to search every household for every eligible maiden in the Kingdom. He visited the hills and the woods, the town and the farmlands, to see if any one of them would be a perfect match for the glass slipper that had been carelessly left behind in the palace gardens that fateful night of the ball.

Loki’s true plan was to prove to the King that his mystery maiden was not to be found, now that her stepmother had taken care of her. “What’s wrong, Captain?” he asked smoothly, feigning concern.

Steve shook his head once, glancing around as they made their way through the streets of the latest neighborhood. “We haven’t found the girl,” he muttered quietly. “I’m disappointed for our King.”

The Grand Duke smirked. “Don’t lose heart, Captain. One house remains here in the outskirts of town. There is still a chance left. We must leave no stone unturned, after all.”

“Yes,” Steve replied coolly, looking over at Loki. He didn’t trust him at all, but he was outranked, and had no proof of disloyalty just yet. “No stone, indeed.”

They arrived at a modest cottage on the edge of town, one that never looked this decrepit before its original owner’s passed away tragically. There were rumors circling this family, because of the new owner’s connection to a crime boss and his own tragic end, but Steve knew no one had been able to pin anything on the mistress of the home.

A cobblestone walk led the way to the door, partially overrun by grass. Dried flowers that were probably once quite lovely ran up the trellis on the side of the cottage, and the only window that wasn’t covered was up high, in what appeared to be the attic.

He sighed softly, moving forward after the Grand Duke, praying that this would lead to a positive outcome. 

* * *

“Mother, they’ve arrived!” Anastasia shouted. She raced over to the window with Drisella and they watched, transfixed, as the Captain and Grand Duke approach the front door. Behind them, about a dozen royal guards stood in formation.

The two girls were well aware that they wouldn’t fit the glass slipper, but their mother had told them they had to try anyways.  It was all a part of the grand scheme to keep you away from the King, though they did not know that the slipper belonged to you.

Loki bit back a cruel smirk when your Stepmother opened the door in an exaggerated flourish. She bowed deeply, her eyes wide and innocent. “Gentlemen,” she cooed. “What a wonderful surprise! To what do we owe this pleasure?”

“A moment of your time, my lady?” Loki gave her a pointed look.

She nodded, bowing to them. “Of course, Your Grace, please do come in. My two _very eligible_ daughters are just this way.”

Steve glanced around the home as they entered the foyer, unable to shake the feeling that something wasn’t right here. He looked over his shoulder at a familiar face.

Bucky stayed in character, standing guard outside with the others, but he did not mistake the look the Captain gave him upon entering the home. He, too, felt as though something bigger was happening. Bucky knew that if he were to show himself now, his plan of catching the Grand Duke red-handed would be for naught, but he couldn’t shake the uneasiness that settled in his gut.

_Something was awry here.  
_

* * *

You opened one eye, then the other, feeling groggier than you ever had before. Your body lay crumpled on the floor, with your cheek flush against the cold boards, and a cold draft drifting over your skin, leaving goosebumps in its wake. Once you were able to focus clearly, your eyes settled on the door of the attic, and your heart sank as you realized what your stepmother had done.

She’d somehow managed to carry you up two flights of stairs to the one place no one would ever think to look for you. It was brutal, but ingenious.

The world threatened to turn on its side the second you lifted your head, but you pushed through the pain and nausea to sit up carefully. Everything seemed to be in one piece, at the very least, as you felt no major injuries.  You stood slowly, and made your way over to what turned out to be a very _locked_ attic door.

Stepmother had reinforced the door ages ago with steel and new technology, back when she had first started storing her weaponry up in there. It was meant to keep out both enemies and the curious alike.

“No,” you whimpered, weariness settling in your bones as you pounded your closed fists on the door once. You felt so defeated, _so tired_.

The thought of your stepmother having any power over Bucky and the kingdom is what gave you the courage to stand upright and try to find a way out of this mess.

Your eyes drifted around the room, trying to assess the inventory that you had access to. You didn’t want to start a fire, for there would be no guarantee that you would be able to make it out alive. There were all sorts of weapons; guns, knives, smoke bombs, even a crossbow, but nothing stood out to you. Even if you were to break the glass of the window with one of these weapons, your voice was still too hoarse from the sedative for you to shout loud enough.

The window opened with ease, and you cracked it just wide enough to assess its position in relation to the front door. It had been so long since you’d bothered to look up, you couldn’t believe you’d forgotten about this near-fortress above your head.

There were visitors downstairs. You could hear a distinctly male voice carry on the wind, one you didn’t recognize. Perhaps that was the Grand Duke, come to offer your stepmother her rewards. But maybe, just maybe, it was someone who could help you.

A renewed sense of urgency filled you, and you turned to the back of the room.

There was one shadowed corner where your stepmother had tossed all your parents’ belongings. Old bedsheets covered everything, so you weren’t even sure what remained and what had been burned, but perhaps you could find something in there of use. It was worth a shot.

You moved toward it quickly, your mother’s mantra in your head once more as you lifted the dusty sheets off of the boxes of trinkets and memories that had been hidden from you.

That’s when you saw something familiar.

It was a little music box that your father had given your mother when they were courting. It played the very song she loved to sing to you every night before bed, when she and your father would tuck you in and tell you how much they loved you.

You reached for it slowly, brushing off the little dust bunnies from the painted lid before you lifted it. Inside were a little man and a woman, permanently facing each other. You wound the pin on the side, and felt your heart beat faster as it came to life. They bowed, then began to dance together to the tune you knew by heart.

Tears welled in your eyes at the sound of the song that had so many sweet memories attached to it.

This would work, you _knew it_. It was just loud enough to be heard from a short distance. Your parents were once again your saving grace, and even if it wasn’t actual magic, it did feel a bit magical. Your eyes lifted to the open window.

There was still hope. 

* * *

“Very well,” the Grand Duke said, tucking his hat under his arm. “Our task is done, Captain. The slipper did not fit either of these young maidens, and they are the very last in the Kingdom.”

“May fate yet be kind to us, girls,” your stepmother said, shooting Loki a look.

“Indeed, Madam.” Loki nodded his head in acknowledgment, before motioning for Steve to follow him. “Come now, Captain. We must go deliver the news to our King.”

Steve exhaled slowly, still feeling like something wasn’t quite right, but he turned to follow the Grand Duke outside.  

That’s when he heard it; the sound stopped him in his tracks. Yes, it was definitely music. “Do you hear that, Your Grace?” he asked Loki.

“Let’s be off, Captain,” Loki replied, waving a hand at him dismissively. “The Princess Natasha will need to be notified immediately, and nuptials planned for our King.”

“Just a moment.” Steve turned back toward the ladies in the doorway. “Madam, there is no _other_ maiden in your house?”

“No,” your stepmother supplied quickly, knowing that you must have woken up by now.

“Then has your cat learned to play piano?” The Captain raised an eyebrow at her.

Stepmother laughed a little too much, overcompensating enough to make Steve sure of himself now.

“She’s lying, Your Grace,” he growled. “There must be at least one maiden remaining. What has been done with her?”

“There’s been enough playacting today, Captain. I trust the Lady. We’re leaving!”

Steve’s eyes turned frantically to Bucky, who gave a nod at his friend, before he removed his guard cap and stepped forward.

“Grand Duke,” the King began. “What sweet sounding music, wouldn’t you agree? It makes me want to tarry just a little.”

Loki’s eyes widened in disbelief at the sight of the King. “Your Majesty, I-“

“Captain,” Bucky interrupted, silencing the Grand Duke instantly. “Would you be so kind as to investigate?”

“It would be my pleasure, Your Majesty,” he replied, glaring at Loki. The older man returned his glare, shifting uncomfortably in place.

Steve turned and went back inside. “Lead me to the attic, if you would, Madam. That is the only open window I could see on your property, and I should very much like to investigate.”

* * *

You looked up from the window as the door swung open and your stepmother appeared next to the Captain of the royal guards. You’d seen him before, along the edge of the hunting grounds with Buc- with _the King_. A thrill of hope ran through you as you turned to them, eyes wide.

Your parents’ music box had worked.

“There, you see, it’s just a servant girl, no one to concern yourself with,” Stepmother said hurriedly, her hand waving at you dismissively.

“We shall see about that,” Steve said, turning toward you. “Miss, you are requested and required to present yourself to your King.”

“I forbid you to do this!” Your stepmother took a few quick steps until she was in front of you. Her eyes dropped to her hand, which she was shielding from the Captain’s sight. In it, she gripped one of her daggers tightly. Her eyes flashed back to yours, her threat made clear.

“And I forbid you to forbid her,” the Captain shot back, his shoulders straightening. “Who are you to stop an Officer of the King?”

“Why, I’m her _Mother_ ,” she gasped. Her hand went to her heart, as if it could feel emotions.

“You have never been, and never will be my mother,” you rasped out, taking a step carefully around her. Your narrowed eyes locked onto her form, knowing that you’d have to move quickly if you wished to leave the attic without being stabbed. You couldn’t leave your back unprotected.

Steve watched you with curiosity, wondering why you were stepping toward him like that, until the last second, when the older woman let out a manic scream and lunged, dagger at the ready.

It all happened _so fast_.

You reached out and grabbed her arms, holding them above her head with all the strength you could muster. The Captain approached quickly, grabbing her at the waist and distracting her long enough for you to wrestle the weapon from her grasp.

You ended up with your back against the wall, unharmed and with her weapon secured in your hand. You watched as Steve held her arms behind her back, his strength overpowering her heated struggle.

“Just remember who you are, you wretch!” she cried out angrily. “You are _no one_! I’ve gotten rid of bigger threats than you. I have evidence against you! You’re in this as deep as I am!”

“Go,” the Captain ordered you, nodding toward the open door. “Go downstairs. I will deal with this criminal.”

You dropped the dagger unceremoniously to the attic floor, still clutching the music box tightly in your hand as you fled down the stairs to the first floor.

No one stood in the foyer, though quite a few guards remained outside. You made a move to go out the front door, but the sound of someone clearing his throat stopped you in your tracks.

When you looked to your right, you saw the King standing before you, a small smile on his face.

Immediately, your heart sank. Everything was going to be out in the open now; all of your past mistakes, your indiscretions, and all of your secrets would come to light. Your stepmother’s parting words hit you like a ton of bricks. You knew you weren’t innocent in this. You’d play a part, too. Would you ever be forgiven? Would you ever be good enough for the sweet, wonderful King James?

What would he think of you once he knew the truth?

There was no magic left in this house to save you this time, only the off-chance that your courage would pull you through whatever fate had in store for you.

Your eyes looked down and you curtsied politely. “Your Majesty,” you said in a hushed voice. It still had not properly recovered.

“Who are you,” the King asked, his brow furrowing slightly.

“I am _Cinderella_ ,” you replied, lifting your gaze to his finally. “My true name is Y/N. I am a servant girl in my own late father’s home, an involuntary accomplice to a major crime lord, and I am certainly no Princess.”

His eyebrows raised a little at that, but he did not look away from you.

You took a few steps closer to him. “I have no parents, no money, no proper trade, and I do not even know if that beautiful slipper will still fit. But, if it does fit, per your order, will you take me as I am? A courageous and remorseful woman who loves you?”

The King paused only a moment, shaking his head as if what you were asking was the most absurd thing he had ever heard.

“ _Of course_ I will.” The adoration that shone in his bright blue eyes nearly knocked the breath out of you. “But only if you’ll take me as I am: a man still learning his trade, bound to need someone courageous by his side.”

You smiled for the first time since the ball. How could someone be so good, so forgiving? It was a gift you had not been expecting, but would cherish nonetheless.

“Please,” he said, gesturing to the chair beside you for you to have a seat.

You moved gingerly to the chair, your previous grogginess still apparent, and sat gently on the cushions.

Bucky knelt down in front of you and reached for your boot, removing it and setting it to the side. He lifted the one remaining glass slipper and eased it onto your bare foot.

It still fit perfectly.

His eyes flickered up to yours, and the bright, happy smile he gave you made you think that perhaps there really was some magic left in this world, and it was all centered in him.

The King stood slowly, reaching out a hand toward you, and you took it and stood beside him. Your eyes left his only when your stepsisters caused a commotion in the doorway, begging everyone in range for mercy.  

Steve motioned to two guards in the doorway, and in no time your stepsisters were shackled and under arrest.

Your stepmother stood by silently, her hands already tied firmly behind her back, as you walked past.

“I forgive you,” you told her quietly. There was so much you wanted to ask, wanted to tell her, but now was not the time. You had no more room in your heart for anger or resentment. You’d been forgiven, and now you needed to pass that along. Right now, you needed closure.

That made her angrier than you could have ever imagined, but it was not for you to decide how she reacted, only how you reacted to her, and you’d had just about enough of having to react to her for a whole lifetime.

It was time to go.

The King – your _Bucky_ – held out his arm to you, and you took it gladly as you slipped your foot back into your boot. You gathered the music box, and he held tightly to your glass slipper, before the two of you turned and walked out of the front door together. You knew you needn’t worry about the house or your other memories, because your step-family wouldn’t be living here any longer, either.

Once you were outside, you turned to him. “What of my crimes, Your Majesty?”

“You’ve helped us apprehend a most wanted criminal and her two main accomplices, while putting your life at risk for the sake of myself and the Kingdom,” he replied, a small smirk appearing on his face. “I know not of a more honorable way to be absolved of any prior infractions than that.”

“Truly?” You couldn’t believe it.

“If you think I’m letting you go now, Y/N, you’re sorely mistaken,” he laughed. “I’m in charge here, remember? I say that you are brave and true. The Captain can attest to that. And frankly, more people in this Kingdom could stand to be more like you.”

“They need only have courage and be kind,” you informed him, a small smile gracing your lips.

He looked at you with love and warmth in his eyes. “Come, my darling,” Bucky murmured, nuzzling your temple. “If it’s all right with you, I’d like to start the rest of our lives now.” His arm slipped around your waist, holding you to him tightly.

“Are you ready?” you asked, wanting him to be sure.

“For _anything_ , as long as it’s with you, my Queen.”

“My Bucky,” you whispered, reaching for him again.

When you were kissed thoroughly for the second time that afternoon, you became sure of one more thing: magic _did_ exist, but it went by a much more common term than you’d expected…

 _{Love_.}

**And they lived happily ever after.**

**The end.**


End file.
